Thirty days hath October, plus one, and other months, so you can still dig into getting treats ready for the whole shebang before there is the deadline of being past trick-or-treating, BOC style. Never too soon for All Hallows.

The host of a radio music program said the song Don’t Fear The Reaper will be played to death, sorry, throughout this month, which also features the fall solstice in that old cable concert series. He was in the band Black Crowes, and their big hit was referenced in my lead to some political satire in The Headliner, about Trump’s demise, rest his soul — oh wait a minute, that’s getting ahead of ourselves.
But until then, this about the full month of October, and it’s already underway, so bear witness: St. Croix Valley magazine (not the one that doesn’t pay, To The Reaper or others) has outlined in their current edition this: 30 ways to create Halloween treats. So I will pump them by saying, hey, October has 31 days so that gives you that full month to get your kitchen together, and try out your creations on your family and friends, before the primo gathering on the 31st that rounds out the bill, numerically. Or, as says the metal song The Wicker Man, “The ferryman wants his money, you ain’t gonna give it back …” Which practically yells out another metal song and such video game, “Doom.” And the cereals spoken of, and for which you can get a dollar off coupon, that enables you to buy more, feature the Green creatures that are from more than one Hollywood movie. And we can forego the old, staid candied caramel corn.

Share the Post:

Related Posts

A hodgepodge listing of everything that’s truly different but maybe baked porage follows, and we’re not talking about a connect-the-dots or puzzle-pieces contest or one on Trump’s foreign policy, haha, rather what I saw and what will be seen around town in recent times. Mostly, one of each. Think you have the world’s, or more likely local church’s, best grilled cheese sandwich, (coming from the land of, specifically, well curded and curdled milk and honey?) Fry it to the test on Saturday. No this is not an autumn chili cookoff, or char the best burger, or even a poker run...
Music in the trees? It conjures up images of a poet wearing millenniums-ago robe and sandals while playing a lute and propped onto the fourth fork of a bigger-than-usual apple tree and doing a balancing act on his ass while he sings a soliloquy or a soffit. Maybe taking a bite in-between verses, to match what listeners chomped on if they hauled it in down long nature paths, making for dinner and a show with duos and trios, and one huge and elaborate band. Well didn’t quite get that lute-ist. Or a bassist so high on life and so-forth stoned...
Questions everywhere? These days, how do you dismiss an ad or a politician, or whoever or whatever pops up and occupies your computer screen, or mailbox, electronic or otherwise? And did that answer in the form of a package or letter or even air waves — coming from a pol or a pool? — ever actually arrive, like all those ads and flyers? Maybe it never will? And surely not written with a quill. As one friend just reminded me, it all starts with one problem leading into another set of problems. Or, like a volcano boiling and brewing and...
Hey today they threw it all back to you, as it is election day, and with it the last Badger gasp — if least if they’re our candidates — (is that the throaty noise they make?), with a soar-throated, campaign-trail rasp made by an audio-version plethora of last-minute flyers that fill our boxes with hopes to grasp, so we can check their boxes when we go to the polls and pick a (partial) winner to move on to full November midterms. Less then the Trump-triumphed manhandling our mailboxes got however, in the last election of this type. Those worn, creaking...
Scroll to Top